


Supervision

by sevendeadlyfun



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Character Turned Into a Ghost, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-03
Updated: 2007-01-04
Packaged: 2017-12-20 21:50:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/892290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevendeadlyfun/pseuds/sevendeadlyfun





	1. Chapter 1

Pairing: Ghost!Spike/Angel  
Rating: NC-17  
Warnings: masturbation and sex toys  
A/N: For lilithbint who requested a voyeuristic Ghost!Spike watching Angel get his rocks off. Consider them completely gotten off, lover!                

 

        Supervision

    Being a ghost wasn’t all bad, Spike decided. Sure, he couldn’t interact with the world, which was a pisser. But, he never got hungry or tired and he could spy on everyone in the building.

    That was Angel’s word for it, spying. Spike took exception to that term. Wasn’t spying, what he did. It was more like…covert supervision. And if he happened to see things he shouldn’t, well, that wasn’t his fault. People ought to be more careful. Really, these tossers were locked up in the belly of the beast and they just coasted along like nothing was wrong. Bloody foolish of them, in his opinion.

    Not that anybody ever asked his opinion. Thus the need for covert supervision. How else was a vamp supposed to keep up with the mission? Put in that light, Spike considered his actions to be of the noblest sort and decided that some sort of reward was in order. A ghost who gives his all for the team deserved something for his troubles. That’s why he was in Angel’s penthouse late at night. Just claiming his reward.

    It had started out innocently enough. He enjoyed watching Angel sleep, the dark face finally smoothed free of worry and tension. He might snap and snarl, but deep inside him existed a huge well of love for his Sire. No matter how much Angel liked to deny it, they were connected at the very core. Blood to blood, mate, he thought, drinking in his fill of the long lines of Angel’s body.

    That’s how it started. Spike wasn’t sure quite when it became something less innocent. Maybe it was the night that Angel shifted a little too violently and the blankets tossed aside to reveal a lovely erection. Ghost he might be, but Spike could feel his own mouth watering and his non-corporeal cock hardening as he watched Angel’s prick bounce slightly. It might have been the night Spike showed up a little too early and Angel was still in the shower, large hands soaping equally large body. He longed for those hands to be soaping him, caressing and massaging muscles that didn’t really exist anymore.

    However it started, Spike reflected, this scene in front of him definitely took it out of the realm of innocent reward. Bloody hell, Spike had seen porn less graphic. Not that he was complaining. Well, yeah actually he was complaining. He no longer wanted to watch. He wanted to join in. But, since that wasn’t possible, he settled down to enjoy the sights.

    Angel stomped upstairs after some meeting with yet another evil client. There was a great deal of cursing and growling, with Angel using some inventive words even Spike had never heard. Spike thought that spoke well of his Sire, because he knew invective from at least 20 human languages and 10 demon ones. Still, Angel had always been creative.

    Spike smiled as Angel stripped, throwing the clothes haphazardly about the bedroom. Another sign of Angel’s anger, that he didn’t carefully fold or hang his precious clothes. Spike didn’t think the anal-retentive bastard had it in him to create a mess, let alone allow one in his presence. Of course, leaving a room in disarray was nothing compared to what came next.

    Angel prowled over to a small closet, and bent over to retrieve something, affording Spike a wonderful view of his swinging sac. The light was dim, but Spike retained his vampiric senses so he could see every detail. The fine line that bisected the sac, with its sprinkling of light brown fur and the heavy weight inside made Spike’s palms itch. He wanted to fondle and measure that gorgeous piece of tackle, feel its heft in his hand. Giving a silent sigh, he stared a bit harder as if he might force himself back to solidity by sheer force of desire.

    Angel was holding a medium sized wooden box and he carried it over to the bed. Throwing himself down, Angel began to rummage in the box. The clink of metal reached Spike’s ears and he perked up. He knew what the sound meant. The box itself might be unfamiliar, but Spike knew its contents well. He’d been the recipient of its delights on more than one occasion, in the old days. It was Angel’s toy box and Spike longed for a bit of playtime. Still, watching Angel use the toys was almost as good as having them used on himself. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, after all.

    Angel withdrew some metallic that glittered in the moonlight. Spike smirked as he watched Angel place the clamps on his nipples. That was his Sire, pain before pleasure. Angel was groaning now, hands stroking his cock lightly. The clamps had wicked teeth, Spike recalled, and they dug nicely into firm flesh. Spike’s tongue snaked out unconsciously, remembering times he’d soothed Angel’s sore nipples after a particularly long “torture” session with Darla. Those marks had taken whole days to fade and made Angel’s nipples deliciously sensitive.  
Angel must have been remembering that too, for his free hand had moved up to his chest. He was feathering his fingers over the tiny nubs that peaked out from between the clamps and hissing in satisfaction. The hand on his cock increased in tempo and pressure, setting up a punishing rhythm that put an ache deep in Spike’s belly. Those hands had strangled Spike’s cock before, made him see stars.

    Spike focused his attention on Angel’s cock, the bright red tip spilling copious amounts of pre-cum, wetting Angel’s belly and snaking down to glisten amid the brown tangled forest between his thighs. Come on, Angel, Spike pleaded silently, show me what I want to see.

    As if following orders, Angel stopped stroking his nipples and reached into the box again. He withdrew a little tube, and Spike groaned as the scent of their favorite lube hit his nose. Everyone always wondered where that little nickname came from and he’d received many a question. But he’d never tell, because that was a secret for the two of them. The luscious odor of peaches filled the room and Spike got lost for a minute in his memories. No matter where he was, the scent of peaches made him instantly hard. Hell, it brought him damn near to spilling in his jeans like a damn schoolboy. Lucky for him ghosts couldn’t cum, or he’d be in trouble.

    Angel was working his fingers inside now, first one then two. He was bucking up and panting as those thick fingers scissored his tiny opening. Spike loved to watch this. Angel had never allowed Spike there, claiming it was a shameful thing for a Sire to be taken by his Childe. Spike had on occasion dared to lick and suck the tasty little rosebud, and that little bit of sensation had always gotten Angelus to cum in great buckets. Should’ve figured him for loving a good rogering, Spike snorted to himself. Christ, what I wouldn’t give to replace those fingers with meself.

    Angel had moved on, though. He’d grabbed another something from the box and Spike furrowed his brow. He’d never seen this in the box before and he puzzled over that fact. He was sure there was nothing Angelus hadn’t used on him before. As it came into the cold white light, Spike had to restrain himself from crying out.

    He had seen it before, only not as toy. The ivory shaft glowed dully then sparkled as Angel’s tongue made its way up to the tip of the dildo. It was large, approximately nine inches in length, with an impressive girth to match. A perfect replica of Spike’s cock, and Angel was stroking it tenderly. Placing soft kisses along the shaft, Angel rolled the cool cock over his face and down his body.

    The dildo sat on the bed, and Angel levered himself up to kneel over it. Spike practically ran across the room and got down on his knees by the bed. Angel was going to fuck himself on this model of Spike’s cock and Spike didn’t want to miss a second of it.

    Angel lowered himself down and Spike saw the head push up into the soft pucker of Angel’s ass. He sucked in his non-existent breath at the same time Angel hissed, one noise covering the other. Angel paused for a moment, and Spike could almost feel his own cock throb painfully in response. More, Angel, I need more. Come on, baby, take me inside you, Spike was begging inside his head. This was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his whole unlife. Angel kneeling in moonlight, clamped and sliding down a cock that resembled Spike’s own in every detail. Oh yeah, there we go, luv…

    Angel had taken the dildo all the way inside and was riding it like a champ. At first Angel was silent, his eyes closed and face almost peaceful. It didn’t take long for the dildo to start hitting his button, and then Angel started fisting his own cock. He babbled, calling out for his boy, begging Spike to fuck him hard, make him cum.

    Angel was getting close now, his cock swelling and turning an exquisite shade of purple. He kept on talking, love you Spike, love your cock, feels so good buried inside me, make me cum, make me cum, cum for me Spike, want to feel it…..Spike thought he might explode, little ghost molecules scattered around the room.

    Spike concentrated harder than he ever had in his life. He wanted to do this and in order to do it, he had to block out all the potent distractions Angel offered. Shutting out everything but his own desire, he leaned forward and stuck out his tongue. Just as Angel started to shoot, Spike swiped his tongue over the plum shaped head of Angel’s cock.

    It only lasted a second. Spike could actually taste the potent flavor of Angel’s semen, rich and salty, on his tongue. That sensation broke his concentration and he became insubstantial again, tongue running through Angel rather than on him. But it was enough for Angel to feel.

    Screaming Spike’s name as he fell back, impaled on the dildo, he started to cum again. The second orgasm so close to the first had Angel sobbing in pleasure.Spike started to fade out, not wanting Angel to rouse himself and start bitching about privacy and personal space. He wanted to keep this scene untainted in his mind, remember the look of bliss on Angel’s face as he rode that cock. Just before he left the room, he heard Angel’s voice.

    “I wish this was real.”

The End


	2. Supervision II

Pairing: Spike/Angel (Is there another?)  
Genre: Slash  
Rating: NC-17  
Warnings: No bigs. Just plain old gay vampire sex here...

A/N: Some dialogue taken from AtS Season FIve Episodes "Soul Purpose" and "Damage". No infringement intended, not mine, just borrowing, totally broke, so on and so forth ad infinitum ad nauseam...

This is the sequel to "Supervision", which the title should make plain. However, I like to be thorough...

 

  
                                  Supervision II

    The high-pitched screaming filled Angel’s head, and he winced. He had to make it stop, had to leave this unreality. He had to fight. The fight made him clean. Make it stop, make it stop, makeitstopmakeitstop…

    “That’ll be a bitch of a clean-up.”

    Angel’s eye flew open. Dazed, he turned his blurry gaze upward. It was…

    “Spike?”

    The slender blonde, his face impassive, swung around. Staring down, he replied obliquely, “No need to thank me. Just helping the helpless.” With that he strode off, leaving Angel on the floor staring after him.

    Later, after he’d recovered and his friends had left, Angel made his way back up to the penthouse. He desperately needed a shower and some real sleep. A nice peaceful dreamless sleep would do wonders, he assured himself. Vampire or not, neurotoxins could really screw up your head.

    So when he tossed restlessly in his large bed, it wasn’t because he was lonely or scared. It had nothing to do with beautiful Childe saving his life and then running off. It was strictly a side effect of the neurotoxins.

    He snorted, sitting up amid squashed pillows and mussed blankets. Even he couldn’t convince himself of that. Yeah, the neurotoxins forced him to confront a lot of his fears. But those fears weren’t about Spike, they were about himself. His constant feelings of personal worthlessness and self-loathing didn’t come from Spike. Hell, Spike was one of the few things in his life he actually felt good about.

    Except, of course, he never told Spike that. He couldn’t bring himself to be that vulnerable in the face of Spike’s razor sharp wit. It’s not as if Spike actually cared about him, Angel pouted. Sure, he’d come unbidden to save Angel’s life. But he didn’t stick around. Just did his good deed and left, even refused to let Angel thank him.

    Did Spike think he was that big an ass? Did Spike really think he’d receive no gratitude from Angel? Probably, Angel conceded. Once again, he’d never given Spike any reason to think differently. And yet, Spike had come to him. Rescued him, though Angel was loathe to think he needed rescuing.

    Maybe he did. Maybe he was being eaten alive, not just by Selminth parasites, but by his unlife. Could Spike rescue him from that? Could anyone, really? He knew damn well he couldn’t save himself. He was flailing, drowning, completely fucked.

    That was why he’d dreamed of that peace. A comfortable chair in a peaceful sunlit field had been his most potent fever dream and it didn’t take Freud to translate that one. Angel craved a little peace, a small corner where he could rest, just stop being for a little while.

    That cut it, as far as Angel was concerned. He lifted up the phone, and after a brief conversation, settled in to wait. He had to find out, once and for all, whether or not there was any way this could be real. He’d had enough of playing pretend. It was time to give reality a try.

    The knock on the door irritated Spike. He’d had enough for today. First Angel’s pet humans come calling, then bloody Doyle and his visions, now this. Spike convienently left out the part of his evening involving Angel. Didn’t want to think about that ponce. Hurt sometimes, but mostly it just made him angry. Angel, of all people, ought to know better. He was going to get himself dusted, all because he was too damn naïve to admit that evil never changes. How many times had he tried to remind Angel of that? Since the first time they’d been reunited, that’s how sodding long. Still Angel wouldn’t listen to him.

    “Treats me like I’m a moron, but I’m not, “ Spike muttered, walking towards the door. “Got more education than that overgrown Mick. Hell, I taught ‘im how to read!”

    Still pissed, Spike flung open the door. Standing in front of him was a smallish man in a suit. Spike stared, confused at this turn of events. He had no clue and as he opened his mouth to demand his visitor give him a good explanation, he felt himself growing light-headed. Before the lights in Spike’s head winked out, all he thought was, “Told him so…”

    By the time Angel received his own knock at the door, he was up and pacing. What was taking them so long? What was the point in running an admittedly evil empire if they couldn’t even retrieve one vampire for him? It wasn’t as if Spike was hard to find. His boy had always stood out in a crowd, his beauty and joy drawing all eyes towards him.

    He answered the door, practically bouncing up and down with excitement. Spike was here. Angel had sent for him and he’d come. That had to mean something, right? Or it might have, had Spike not been unconscious. An unknown man was carrying his boy, and Angel couldn’t work out why.

    “What happened? Was he injured? Does he need medical attention?” The words rushed out of Angel’s mouth as he yanked Spike away from the man.

    “No, sir. He’ll come around in a few minutes, “ the man answered evenly.

    “Come around? What are you talking about? Why is he unconscious in the first place? WHAT HAPPENED?” Angel was yelling now. His boy, his Spike, was out cold for no discernible reason. Angel inspected his face and head, checking for lumps, blood, something that would explain the situation.

    “You gave the order to retrieve the other souled vampire. I was under the impression you wanted him brought here, sir. If I erred, I apologize. However, I received no instructions to terminate the subject. If your orders were miscommunicated to me, I could…” the man explained, removing a stake from the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

    “You have 10 seconds to start running, “ Angel stated, voice soft. “I gave orders to have Spike contacted and invited here. I said nothing about harming him. Leave now and I might forget that I want to kill you.”

    The man turned and walked out of the penthouse, just as casually as he’d walked in. Angel stared down at Spike, breathing heavily. This was going to be so bad. He was barely reining in Angelus, so to distract himself, he started listing the ways in which this situation was going to explode in his face.

    First, Spike was going to kill him. He would assume he’d been attacked on Angel’s orders, and would respond accordingly. Second, there was no way Spike was going to be up for a nice chat about how much Angel needed him. Third, Angel felt pretty certain that Spike wouldn’t feel at all interested in giving Angel a little love and comfort. Angel winced. That part was probably the ugliest. He’d really been looking forward to feeling Spike’s arms around him. Damn.

    Well, since this whole situation was going to end in his very painful death, Angel figured he might as well make his death worth it. He leaned over and pressed his lips firmly on Spike’s. They were soft and plump, and Angel sucked lightly on Spike’s lower lip. God, it was just as tasty as he remembered. For years, whenever the soul got to him, Angel would try to distract himself with happy memories. Spike’s lips had ranked high on that list. After a while, Angel thought he must be making it up. No way could anyone’s mouth be so utterly delectable. But, it was. It really really was as good as he’d remembered.

    Spike’s eyes fluttered open and he groaned, raising a hand to his head. Bleedin’ Christ, this was just as bad as that chip! Of course, he didn’t remember the chip making his lip feel all moist and quivery like this….OH. It was Angel. Angel was sucking on his lip like it was a nice juicy lolly. This couldn’t be good.

    Spike pulled back, but he didn’t get very far. The iron arms holding him might have had something to with that. He glanced around and then met Angel’s concerned gaze.

    “Oh. Well, fancy this. Bitty slug I saved you from scramble your brains after all?”

    ‘N-no, “ Angel stammered. This was definitely not the reaction he’d been expecting. Spike was still lying in his arms and there weren’t any death threats yet. Angel smiled, deliriously happy.

    “So, what then? You sent the mojo man after me because you heard a great new joke and just couldn’t wait to share? I gotta tell you, Angel, you should really investigate the 21st century. There’s this nifty invention called the…” Whatever Spike was going to say got lost in Angel’s mouth. It was nice in there, Spike reflected woozily. So warm and moist and bleedin’ fuck, he was kissing Angel. Really kissing him, and it felt like sunshine.

    Then there was something soft and comfortable underneath him. Angel’s hands were everywhere, all 10 of them. Spike lost his clothes in the tussle, but it didn’t seem too important. Angel was petting him, stroking his face and hair, caressing his arms, and always there were those lovely lips on his, firm tongue probing deeply inside his mouth. Spike started to wonder if Angel was searching out his soul by way of his oral cavity.

    Angel meant to have a reasoned discussion with Spike. There were important points that had to be made, he remembered. He had to tell Spike how much he needed him, wanted him. But then Spike had started talking. Angel wasn’t completely clear on what because there hadn’t been any sound. Just full pink lips moving distractingly, tempting him to come join them. Once he’d accepted the invitation, he’d gotten lost. The bed, they needed the bed. And less clothes, because who wore clothes to bed?

    There was skin. Through the haze of Angel’s drugging kisses, Spike felt skin touching his. It had been so long since anyone had touched him. He missed that, the power of a simple touch. He’d been insubstantial for so long, just air and light, nothing real about him. This made him feel real again, the light touches falling on his skin like rain. He moved his hands, touching the skin around him. It was hard, stretched taut over a large frame. It felt solid, impregnable. It felt safe, this skin.

    Angel moaned into Spike’s mouth. Spike was touching him, running his hands up and down Angel’s back. Spike, who would be his anchor, keep him from being lost in the storm. He needed more. He needed all of Spike.

    Angel took one hand off Spike, regretting the loss of contact immediately. His fingers groped around the table next to bed, finally closing around the tube. He couldn’t wait, even though he knew he should. There should be talking, but he didn’t want to talk. He wanted to feel. He wanted to be found.

    Hastily squirting some lube on his hand, he worked his own entrance, stretching and slicking it in order to make this as pleasurable as possible. Reaching down, he stroked Spike’s raging erection, spreading the lube up and down. Spike was moaning now, panting around Angel’s tongue. Angel pinched Spike’s foreskin lightly, dragging it across the moist tip. Spike convulsed, and began pumping himself into Angel’s hand. Rolling them over, Angel climbed on top of Spike, lips never parting.

    Oh, there was more mojo, Spike thought faintly. Had to be, because his cock was tingling and he smelled peaches. Finest kind of magic, that, to make his prick feel all slick and hot. Then he was shuddering and thrusting, his cockhead prickling and buzzing in a delightful way. The hands were gone now, but the lips were there. The earth turned and swallowed him down, enclosing his throbbing cock in a tight sheathe. Spike thrust upwards, craving more.

    Angel slid down Spike’s shaft, taking him inside in one fluid motion. He’d had lots of practice taking this particular cock, and there was no pain. He was whole now, Spike underneath him and inside him and around him. Spike’s arms wrapped around him and he was pushing his cock deep inside Angel. This was what he’d been missing with the dildo. The connection, the security of Spike’s arm and his mouth loving Angel’s and just…”Spike!”

    Someone was calling his name. His lips free, Spike responded, never missing a thrust or letting go of the firm body in his arms.

    “Got you, pet…feel so wonderful…oh yeah, that’s my luv…gonna fill you up….give it to you…make you feel so good…fuck, that’s lovely… “ Spike knew he was babbling and he didn’t care. The tightness around his cock was clenching rhythmically and his balls were boiling over. He spilled jet after jet of cum deep inside, moaning words of love and praise.

    Angel felt Spike’s cock hit his prostate, battering at the sensitive nub and pushing him over the edge. He heard Spike’s voice, love and good and fuck and he came, spilling himself on Spike’s belly without a hand ever touching his cock. He fell over, his head resting on Spike’s shoulder.

    Spike’s hand moved up, petting the head on his shoulder. That was the best sex he’d ever had, and while he still wasn’t clear on the details, he didn’t care. He felt warm and happy and cared for. That was all that really mattered, he supposed. It hadn’t felt like this in quite awhile. The last time had been with….

    “Angel?”

                                                                    TBC….  



End file.
